A couple kisses, makes awkward, filthy love in the corn. 
Both are wearing formal wear. An ancient Tuxedo, a long
white wedding dress. Preacher adjusts to get a better look.

The woman turns to look at the Preacher. The man turns too.

They are yellow-skinned zombies, fat and loose green veins
showing through peeling cheeks. Preacher runs, terrified.
Stumbles backward into an open grave. The coffin lid falls
shut on him. He panics, pounding on the lid.

EXT. COUNTRY ROADS –DAY

Preacher wanders the earth. Visits abandoned houses. Checks
the electric meters: Nothing. Mailboxes full of old mail,
water running in a sink. Puts his hand on the faucet knob
but doesn’t turn it off. Finds a business card wedged in a
front door.

INSERT DOG-EARED BUSINESS CARD:

Picture of KEVLAR (23), handsome, smiling. “Call Kevlar for
Insurance against the End Times. Make the most of being left
behind.”

Preacher visits more empty houses and sticks bright red
fluorescent dots on the top of each door mantle.

He walks towards a country crossroads a mile away. Sees a
green pickup driving through in the far distance. He runs
towards the crossroad waving his arms, jumping frantically.

                         PREACHER
               Hey! Wait!

The pickup drives on through the empty plains in a tiny cloud
of dust.

EXT. BACK WOODS TRAILER ? DAY

TREVOR (4) a dirty little kid plays in front of a wasted 
trailer, on blocks. Preacher knocks on the door.

                       FAT WOMAN (O.S.)
               Get the hell out!

                          PREACHER
               It’s Preacher Bubb.

                       FAT WOMAN (O.S.)
               Preacher Bubb? I thought you were 
               that damned insurance salesman.